


untitled Fandom Stocking fusion commentfic

by Sholio



Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman, White Collar
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Community: fandom_stocking, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-19
Updated: 2012-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-29 18:56:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/323048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sholio/pseuds/Sholio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Fandom Stocking as commentfic for Saphirablue; reposted here (rather belatedly). White Collar/His Dark Materials fusion. Peter realizes something interesting about Neal and his daemon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	untitled Fandom Stocking fusion commentfic

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in comments here: [part one](http://fandom-stocking.livejournal.com/181690.html?thread=4547002#t4547002) and [part two](http://fandom-stocking.livejournal.com/181690.html?thread=4547258#t4547258).

The first time Peter saw it, he didn't at first realize what he'd seen. He and his team had come closer than they'd ever gotten to the elusive "James Bonds", cornering him in a dead-end alley. Peter, far ahead of his team, turned the corner at a run --

\-- just in time to see Neal swing bareback onto a giant dark-brown horse. The horse gathered its muscles into a tremendous leap, clearing the chain-link fence blocking the alley, and galloped out of sight.

Peter was too stunned -- and, truth be told, out of breath -- to do more than wheeze, "Stop! FBI!" at Neal's rapidly receding back. Neal gave him a jaunty wave and then vanished around the corner.

"Where," Peter panted, leaning against the wall of the alley, "did he get the damn horse?"

Peter's German-shepherd daemon pricked up her ears. "That was his daemon," she said. "Couldn't you tell?"

Peter frowned down at her. "Neal's daemon is a black ferret. I've seen her."

"I know." Peter's daemon whined unhappily. She didn't like it either. "But I also know what I saw and smelled. That was Kate, all right."

Children's daemons could change shape, but once a person grew up, it wasn't possible anymore. That was one of the most basic natural laws. In the end, Peter didn't mention in his report what he (and his daemon) had thought they'd seen. It was too impossible; there must be some other explanation. And even if it had really happened, he had no proof.

*

Over time, he managed to convince himself that he hadn't seen what he thought he'd seen. There must be some other explanation -- some rational explanation. Once Neal was out of prison, on the anklet, Peter kept wanting to ask him about it, but he couldn't quite figure out a way to bring it up. It was crazy. He had to be mistaken.

Then, it happened again, and this time Peter saw the whole thing. He'd been working with Neal for about a year at that point. They were chasing a bank robber who turned out to be a retired circus acrobat, and Neal ended up going up on the roof after the guy, ignoring (as usual) Peter's bellowed order to stop. Looking up from the ground, Peter saw Neal execute a series of nearly impossible leaps from building to building, with Kate clinging to his shoulder. Then it happened: Neal missed one of the jumps, starting to fall as Peter froze in horror.

Kate transformed so quickly that Peter couldn't tell what she became, just that it was huge and winged (an eagle? a condor?). A hard flap of her wings gave Neal enough of a boost to catch the edge of the next roof over, and Neal scrambled up, with Kate clawing her way up beside him in her usual slender otterine form.

Diana and Jones arrested the bank robber one alley over when he tried to take to the ground again. Peter intercepted Neal at the end of the alley. Neal was smoothing down his hair and trying to look as if nothing at all had happened.

"Neal."

"Peter." Neal gave Peter one of his devil-may-care smiles, but he also, Peter thought, looked distinctly nervous. Kate was draped around his neck, her small claws twined in his hair, and Neal reached a hand up absently to stroke her.

"I'm buying you a beer," Peter said, resting a hand on top of his daemon's head. "And we're going to talk."

*

Neal balked at first, but it didn't take much to get him to open up. Peter got the feeling that Neal had been wanting to talk about it for a long time.

"I don't know why, but Kate never settled on a shape like most daemons do."

They were sitting on Neal's couch, with Kate sleeping in Neal's lap. Peter's daemon was curled at his feet, but her head was up, listening.

"She can't change as effortlessly as a child's daemon," Neal went on, affectionately stroking Kate's glossy fur. "As you can see, she's very tired. She'll be groggy for days. But she can do it."

Peter managed to stifle all the jokes that came to mind about Neal's childlike nature. Maybe that really _was_ it, though, he thought. Neal changed personas with a child's guileless ease; no wonder his daemon wasn't locked into an identity, when Neal himself wasn't. "Have you thought about asking an expert about it?"

Neal shook his head, very quickly. "Peter, no. You can't tell anyone."

"Come on," Peter said. "You've been listening to Mozzie too much. What do you think is going to happen, you'll be locked up and studied?"

He'd been joking, but Neal's eyes snapped electric blue. "You don't think so? We're already prisoners. Who's going to notice one prisoner more or less?"

"I would," Peter said. "You still have rights, you know."

"Peter. Please."

Peter heaved a sigh and rubbed his eyes. "All right. I won't. For now." He looked at Kate again. The small animal was limp with obvious exhaustion. A worrisome thought occurred to Peter. "Is there any chance this could be dangerous?"

"I don't know," Neal admitted. "I don't think so. But we don't do it unless it's an emergency."

"Which is why you haven't, say, started breaking into bank vaults with a T-rex, or had your garden snake slither through the bars and unlock --" Peter stopped as a thought occurred to him. "Wait, the Antioch manuscripts -- I never _could_ figure out how you pulled that off, but a shape-changing daemon --"

Neal rolled his eyes and poured himself more wine.

"Emergency my ass," Peter said. "You had her change into a carrier pigeon for that one, didn't you?"

"She volunteered," Neal said.

"I don't believe it. Your daemon is even more reckless than you are." And he'd thought Kate was the less troublesome of the two. Trust Caffrey to find new ways of complicating his life every time his back was turned.

~


End file.
